Norwegian Wood
by Black Aliss
Summary: Regulus Black loves the Beatles, Crosswords, and Narcissa and hates his brother, Lucius Malfoy, and aspargus. This is his life, and in his humble opinion. A fascinating one at that.
1. In Which There Is A Prologue

_I once had a girl,  
Or should I say  
She once had me.  
She showed me her room,  
Isn't it good?  
Norwegian wood._

Crabbe had once asked him if he minded being used; Regulus had cocked his head to the side in puzzlement and raised an eyebrow. "Why would I?" He'd replied easily, and then continued plotting out a map of the intersection of Saturn and Jupiter. Halfway done and nearing midnight he paused with a hearty groan. Rubbing his eyes with the back of his hand he realized that he'd written _her_ name in the place of Europa in a moment of distraction.

_Narcissa..._

He breathed her name silently into her silky hair and inhaled in deeply, enjoying the intoxicating scent of rose roll over him. "You've changed your scent" He yawned casually, placing a hand under her chin and turning it until she was facing him. Her eyes, two blue almonds looked at him innocently, and the corner of her mouth tucked in with amusement, "You noticed" She said almost breathily, placing a hand around him, he tightened his hold on her. "It's as strong as a siren's call Cissy dearest, whyever would you do such a thing?" He teased, she shrugged carelessly. She shut him up by the simple method of placing her lips on his, and easing their bodies together. Later it would completely fail him why he hadn't seen through such a simple distraction; or perhaps he had, and hadn't cared.


	2. In Which There Is Apple Brandy

_The act of love is a partnership, in which each person gives and takes._

"I give it alright" Evan Rosier chuckled heartily punching the air with enthusiasm, "Pass me a few chesnuts would you Reg". Regulus, feet slung over the Nott's three hundred year old antique couch tossed one over his head. It sailed through the air and Evan caught it easily with the quick reflexes of a first class beater. "What kind of rubbish is this anyway Patil" He asked pointedly. The Indian turned English gentleman replied with a wicked grin, "Only what my old nanny used to tell me" He said, sipping his port, curled up in an armchair by the fire—his copy of _The Prophet_ lying by his side.

"And what else did your old Nanny whisper to you?" Wilkes coughed with a laugh. "Don't be completely vile Geoffrey" Patil snorted. "What? Your Nanny never sexed you up?" Nott asked with an evil grin, "You must have been a right ugly baby"

"Hah. Pot meet Kettle" Patil said scornfully. Nott protested in vain, "I was damn beautiful baby I was—old ladies used to stop us in the street to coo"

"Did they want to sex you up too?" Wilkes asked again, laughing. "Really," Patil said raising an eyebrow "Wilkes your obsession with sexing up is indicative of deep seated mental trauma."

"Huh?" Wilkes asked.

"Forget it" Patil said mockingly, "I shouldn't have tried. Nott, I'll take some more of this excellent port if you have any"

Nott shook his head, "Guests—and they're stealing most of the good stuff." He scratched his left arm casually.

Patil looked mildly concerned, his fingers drumming on the couch, "Nott, please—you haven't? Think about it at least." His warm brown eyes looked concerned.

Nott shook his head, "I don't _want_ to think about it. Our father's thought--it's time for action now. Let their generation go down in history as old fat geezers too petrified for real action. _We_ will go down as the heroes" He said, holding his wine glass up to the light and examining the way it refracted.

"Dead heroes" Patil shot back, "Nott this runs completely contrary to all the tenants of our house" He pleaded.

"Better to die a hero then die a coward" Nott said. Reg saw his hand curled round the arm rest of his chair. He was reminded of a creature ready to pounce, tense coiled energy with nowhere to go but out.

"_Gus_" Patil said in one last ditch attempt. "If you look at history you'll see that this is doomed to _fail_".

Nott shook his head, and with a curl of his lip said—"I have no idea why you would even care _Patil_."

Regulus was feeling slightly woozy by that time, and confused by the turn of the conversation—but at this last he turned to watch Patil and was in time to see the expression on his friend's face crumble into dust leaving him in a second very—vulnerable.

He interrupted swiftly, "Who wants apple brandy?" He called out, waving the two bottles in the air.

There was a hearty cheer from all, but what Regulus saw was the grateful expression on Patil's face and the bitterness in his eyes.

"Love in the Springtime…_boom boom…deedleee…_" Regulus sang in a deep bass orchestrating his invisible players with the wine bottle. "Teedlee _deeeeee"_

"Shut it Black" Wilkes said, throwing a pillow at him, which Regulus drunkenly dodged. "You sound like an orchestra of yowling cats".

"Your mother then, eh Wilkes?" Regulus said with a grin. Wilkes let out a roar and was about to charge at Regulus when Nott interfered. "No fighting you two—or I'll be forced to hex the both of you" He said with a nasty smile.

Regulus recalled the last person Nott had jinxed and shuddered. "Congrats on effectively killing the mood" said Parkinson who had showed up at eleven with a scarf wrapped heavily around his neck that he refused to take off. He'd spent most of the rest of the time staring dreamily into the fire, only reacting when Rosier and Regulus had begun singing: "_Parkinson and Weasley_ _sitting in a tree_" in loud offkey voices.  
At which time he'd turned around and jelly legged them.

Regulus and Rosier were still trying to cancel it 15 minutes later when with a brief exasperated sigh Patil and Nott made a swift sign with their wands and they collapsed to the floor legs free.

Rosier, munching on a peanut, and massaging his legs casually turned and said "Have any more pearls of wisdom to share Patil?"

Patil who had been semi-silent until that point, brooding looked up, a strange look on his face "Only this" Patil said mock seriously, "Sometimes what was once a partnership can degenerate into a relationship of hunger, in which one partner is the predator and one is the prey"

Regulus choked on his chesnuts and spluttered them up, Rosier thumped him on the back companiably, "Still don't see what's so wrong with that" Rosier said with a wink.

"Don't you?" Patil asked slowly, and Regulus was extremely disconcerted when Patil's dark eyes locked onto his.


	3. In Which Reg Loves The Beatles

A/N: Well, I do like this fic, but I just wish I knew if the non-reviews are a "there's nothing wrong" or a "SCHESFKJLSJL". Still, all blue birds and happiness. The more I enjoy writing something it seems, the less reviews it gets. This will get updated tomorrow, because tomorrow is my birthday and 'tis the season of giving, etc.

"Oy Patil". Regulus cried out dumping his library books on the table where Patil was sitting. The latter emersed in a copy of _Which Witch?_ put a finger to his lips. "I come to you with a tale of extreme danger and brilliant cunning" He proclaimed loudly.

Two Ravenclaws at the tables near by glared at him with murder smoldering in their eyes. Regulus lowered his voice hastily, "_I know who it is_" He whispered excitedly. Patil looked at him blankly, "The wanker who's stolen Cissy from me!" "Oh him" Patil said tiredly, this conversation following the train of many before it.

"Go on then, who's it this time Potter? Lupin? Abbott? _Hagrid_?" "Don't be ridiculous, my girl has better taste than that" Regulus scoffed, and pulled up a chair, sitting backwards on it. "You see, last time"

Patil grimaced and then waved him on, "It wasn't _my_ name"

"…And it…usually is?" "_Always_!" Regulus thumped the table for emphasis "She started to say a name that started with L! She covered of course, the cunning little harpy" He said almost lovingly.

Patil said nothing, so Regulus continued, "Being my extraordinarily clever self, I went and I looked up the list of Slytherin 6th years"

"Didn't it occur to you that maybe this…man…is not in Slytherin?" Patil asked, Regulus snorted, "Oh please, she's far too classy for Gryffindor" Patil again left a pointed silence, "Hufflepuff's a joke" Regulus continued, "And it's almost exam time so Ravenclaw is definitely out, now do you want to hear my extraordinarily clever story or not?"

"Go ahead" Patil said exhaustedly, "I looked up all the L's and what do I find? One Rabastan Lestrange" Reg continued.

"No." Patil said firmly, setting down his rag. "Why not?" Regulus asked.

"A. It is highly unlikely she'd be shouting out a man's _last _name during intercourse despite being a Slytherin B. Rabastan and your cousin Bellatrix have been having it off since last Christmas, and I really doubt that your cousins are _that_ close, and C…I'm afraid I know who it is"

Regulus did a double take, "You Know!" he almost shouted, Patil rolled his eyes, "Indoor voices Reg" Regulus nodded furiously, "But--but who is it?" He whispered furiously, leaning across the shiny wooden table.

Leaning away from him, Patil took a deep breathe. "Lucius Malfoy."

Regulus paused in mid tirade. "Fuck. Fuck… and Fuck again" He said collapsing back into his chair. He closed his eyes "Are you _sure_"

"Positive"

"Shite, _Shite._ But, but…he's ratty, and disgusting, their children will look like rodents!"

Patil sighed, "I hate to point it out Reg, but you two are actually cousins"

"Yes, yes, But we don't _look_ alike"

"So if your children are hideously messed up in the head it doesn't matter if they look adorable in taffeta?"

"Basically". Regulus buried his head in his hands—his life shattered into a million tiny pieces. Patil continued reading, after several moments Regulus remerged "Malfoy, are you sure?"

Patil nodded, "Dead cert."

"Oh man…" Reg slammed his head back down onto the table. "Why does life have to be so complicated?" He asked, voice muffled by the polished oak table.

"Merlin only knows, _compadre_" Patil said with another sigh, tucking his magazine back in his bag, "'Cmon let's go, I'll lend you Rubber Soul"

Regulus perked up slightly, "_Baby you can drive my car…"_ He hummed brightly, pulling his book back over his shoulder. _"Wish you're gonna be a star…"_ Patil added in a light baritone, strumming on an imaginary guitar.

"I really don't know why such brilliant people were born muggles" Regulus wrinkled his nose, and Patil rolled his eyes, "One of life's great mysteries" He said and they left the library, Regulus now singing _Michelle_ at the top of his voice.


	4. In Which There Are Swedes

A/N: Obviously I lie all the time, because this was not up on my birthday. Apologizes for the grievously terrible punctuation errors---I tried, but the edited version vanished.

By the '70s things had started to loosen up between the Muggle world and the Wizarding, the Slytherins would still never be seen dead in the muggle world, but they weren't averse to swinging a little arse to Muggle music. After all, the magical musical world was still in the tight grip of Celestina Warbeck.

Still, there were some people who you _did_ not want to catch you swinging Calliope Parkinson around the room to _Dancing Queen._ So when Lucius Malfoy, Head-Boy with 5 OWLS and a job at the Ministry ready and waiting for him strode into the common room a scowl on his lips, Regulus and his crowd hurriedly hid the records under arm chair and tried to pretend as if they had been spending a constructive evening doing the crossword.

Malfoy scowled at them all furiously, not believing a word of it when Calliope batted her eyelashes at him prettily and asked him if he knew a 7 letter word for an Exotic Flower.

"I want Black"

"Which one?" Regulus asked, "Ha. Ha." He added hastily, Lucius sneered at him appraising him darkly, "You'll do" He said, jerking his head towards the door. As he was dragged bodily out of the room, Regulus shot desperate looks at his friends, and was able to see the universal panic on all of their faces. _Gee thanks_. He thought bitterly.

Malfoy dragged him into a courtyard, _Empty_ Regulus noted with a small flutter of anxiety, and so wasn't exactly surprised when Malfoy pinned him to a fiscus tree with a sneer and rippling of the biceps.

"What's the need for this, Malfoy?" He asked, trying to interject casual indifference into his voice. Malfoy's eyes flashed angrily, and Regulus gulped, "Is this about the Gryffindor Quidditch Team and the itching powder, because I _swear_"

"Shut up. I'm thinking" Malfoy yelled at him, and let him go, Regulus leaned against the tree and massaged his neck carefully and squashed the urge to ask if it was such an arduous task that it required his full attention. "Er…about what?"

Malfoy loomed over him and Reg noted how tall Malfoy seemed when seen at close quarters, "Whether or not to break your spineless little neck" Malfoy said.

Regulus laughed. "What?" Malfoy asked dangerously. "I. I. Thought it was a joke" Regulus mumbled looking down at the cobblestones.

"Oh this is no joke" Malfoy shook his head, and then threw his head back and cackled. Regulus wondered if he was having a psychotic attack.

"Well, uh, if you want any input" He stuttered… "All in all, I think I'd prefer my neck intact, if that's alright by you"

"Yes, I suppose" Malfoy said grudgingly, "And I suppose it would upset Narcissa" _Ah_ Reg realized with a sinking feeling. "Nora knows why" Malfoy said scathingly.

"Er…well, she's very fond of me, we've known—'

"Yes, Yes, so I hear" Malfoy glared. "And that is exactly what I dragged you out here to sort out. You are on no account to bother Cissy"

Regulus was going to protest saying that Cissy certainly never seemed to _mind_, but looking at the glint in Malfoy's eyes thought better of it.

"Right that's completely clear, Sir" He said. "Good, good" Malfoy said, "But now swear to me you little rotting carcass that you'll keep your grubby fingers off her _and_ that there was nothing between you ever"

Regulus from his position, re-pinned upon the fiscus tree nodded slowly. "Say it" Malfoy said threateningly, Regulus gestured to his throat and Malfoy dropped him again, wiping his hand on his robes.

"I _swear_ I'll never touch Cissy, and there never was anything between us" Regulus muttered darkly.

"Excellent" said Malfoy jovially, clapping him on the back. "I think I'll just let Crabbe and Goyle give you a little backing up, shall I?"

Regulus groaned in anticipation as he saw two shadowy figures looming out of the darkness, the last things he saw before the world spun black and all thoughts were slammed out of his mind.


	5. In Which The RSPCA Meets Hogwarts

The owlery at night was a mass of slumbering owls, bird shit, and the sound of Regulus complaining heartily. "I don't know why you're dragging me out of bed at this hour".

"Because I'm expecting a letter" Patil hissed, "And be quiet or you'll wake the portraits up."

"Why couldn't you get it delivered to the table like any other reasonable person?" "It's personal and any mail that gets delivered by my owl is first opened and searched by my parent's attendants"

"How can you tell—magical residue?" Regulus asked curiously.

"No, actually, I can tell by the fact they never bother to reseal the envelope" said Patil.

"Subtle of them" Regulus said. "Subtlety isn't their strong point" said Patil blithely. "Not Nott's either" Regulus said, deliberately not looking at Patil, casually unwrapping a piece of gum. Patil looked at him in surprise, "What do you mean?"

Regulus rolled his eyes, "I'm not a complete idiot, you know" He said mildly. "Nott has a newly acquired scar on his left hand, he's as twitchy as a rabbit, _And_ he doesn't show up for dancing any more"

"You noticed?" Patil asked. "I'm a Black" Regulus said by way of explanation. "It's sort of a selectively chosen thingummy. What was it?"

"Trait?" asked Patil.

"Yeah. Those things, survival of the fittest and all, right? It means that to survive to be a Black you've got to be mean, smart, and have a resistance to strange Asiatic poisons".

"You've been reading Darwin?" Patil said beaming. "Yeah. I reckon he's alright" Regulus said with a shrug. "For a muggle. Bit of a stodgy bloke, though"

Patil grinned, and getting to his feet, he said, "I think that's my owl", somewhat pointlessly, as a snowy white owl flapped exhaustedly into the owlery-- dropping feathery plumes on Regulus's dark head.

He caught it with an expert hand and undoing the tie on its leg tossed the envelope with its handwritten address to Patil. "Here you go, can we go to bed now?"

Patil nodded, "And—Reg?" He said as they made their slow pain staking way downstairs under Regulus's invisibility cloak. "I think we can keep this between the two of us, right?"

"I have no idea what you're talking about" Regulus said, yawning and tiptoeing around the statue of Gregory the Gargantuan.

"Good man" Patil said with a wink.

It was only later that Reg realized that his finely tuned Black senses had not picked up on someone very subtly and sneakily changing the subject.


	6. In Which Coffee Is A Blessing

A/N: Eh. I'm a sucker . This is for ThisDuckIsQuakers, and Not Incredibly Important (whoever you may be.) Enjoy.

Regulus was only slightly surprised when Rosier slid into the seat next to him at breakfast the next morning. Rosier, his red gold hair mussed yawned, and then shot an arm out and stole a slice of bread from the first year sitting across from him. The first year squeaked in outraged indignation before Rosier glared at him, and the child looked down at his plate in contrition.

"So, Black", Rosier said, munching on the toast, and looking at Reg. "How have you been you feeling"

Regulus trying not to look like he found this game of Let's Side Step The Issue a bit annoying that early in the morning answered, "Positively smashing _Evan_."

"I'm delighted, _Regulus_" Rosier said with a small fanged smile. "You see" He said, grabbing the first year's knife and beginning to spread blackberry jam on his toast busily—"_We_ were a bit worried about you, honestly. You haven't been your usually bouncy self old chap. Very exclusive. In fact." He said casually, pushing back his hair. "The only person you seem to be spending much time with is Patil"

"I happen to enjoy his company" Regulus said with a shrug. "Oh so do I, so do I" Rosier said smoothly, "But you know and I both know that Patil isn't quite…"

"Quite what?" Reg asked blandly. Rosier lowered his toast and looked at Regulus and smiling innocently said "We're just worried about you, that's all Regulus. I'm sure you can understand that"

Regulus nodded. "And we will be seeing you on the 28th, won't we?"

"Yes" Regulus said. "Good, good" said Rosier congenially, patting him on the shoulder. "Can't wait to see you there old boy." He drawled, and with that swung his legs around the bench and headed off to get some more coffee.

"What was that 'bout Reg?" the tiny first year asked. Regulus who had been glaring off at Rosier's casually retreating back turned around and throwing a roll at him said. "Shut up and eat Geoff".

(I imagine Geoff as a sort of Marauders version of Nigel The Bitch Boy.)


	7. In Which There Are Corridors

A/N: Thanks to my reviewers and JKR. 

It was a fine day. Fine in that he, Reg, had lost Gryffindor 20 points so far, had seen Lily Evans humiliate James Potter in front of the whole school and managed to spread a rumor that Lucius Malfoy was once _Lucia_.

He was rounding a corner, whistling _Brown Sugar_ (having temporarily switched his affections to the Rolling Stones) when he heard an impatient tangle of familiar voices. He stopped, and peaked his head round the wall.

In a shadowy section of the corridor, enclosed by a statue of Gertrude The Unfortunate, patron saint of VDs were Patil and Cissy having a heated discussion.

Reg's throat tightened at the sight of Cissy. He'd been studiously avoiding her for three weeks, and somehow she'd only managed to get lovelier with the passing times. Her blanched hair curled slightly around the nape of her neck and her robes were the rich green of a pickled toad.

"What did you want to talk to me about?" asked Narcissa, raising a slight eyebrow, her hand placed judiciously on her hip in the _kettle_ position.

Patil, glared at her and half-snarled. "You know very well what I want to talk to you about, _Narcissa_". Reg was temporarily thrown, as far as his memory went back he'd never seen Patil look in anyway disgruntled, not even in third year when, after a rowdy night Rosier had puked all over his potions homework.

Narcissa continued to look politely baffled, but here Reg was able to read the situation better. Having grown up, as it were, by Narcissa's side he recognized that look. It was the _Look At Me While I Convince Everyone It Was Bellatrix Who Stole The Cookie_. He narrowed his eyes, whatever she'd done must've been bad for Patil to look so ticked off. Possibly she'd even defaced a library book.

"Whatever Malfoy has chosen to embroil himself is no business of mine, and it is only your fault if you choose to align yourself with him" Patil said calmly, "But then you tried to take what's _mine._ You took Nott, and you will _not_ use your influence over Regulus to try and—"

"Try and what?" Narcissa asked, her voice soft and throaty, and almost, _suggestive_. Patil shook his head in irritation, "Get over yourself Black. You may think that your pretty blue eyes can get you anything you want. But I can see through it." He bent his head, his black hair flopping into his eyes, as he looked at her straight on. "One day you might want to try it, but be careful, I'm not sure you'll like what you see". With that he turned on his heel and continued walking down the corridor, his neatly pressed collar framing the back of his head.

Regulus turned his head back to Cissy and with shock realized that for the first time in his life Patil had been mistaken. The expression on Cissy's face wasn't irritation, or amusement, but embarrassment…or longing.

He fled.

Regulus lay awake, the sensation of sleeping alone still novel. The only source of heat came from the heating charm he'd placed on his pillows, and they were hardly an adequate substitute for womanly warmth. The empty place beside him was a constant tugging reminder on his mind, dragging him back, over and over again to that scene in the corridor. The familiarity between the two of them, Patil's loping stride as he went to wherever Patil went, and that peculiar look on Cissy's face.

Contrary to popular belief Regulus was not dumb. Not in the real intended sense of the word. It was true, he wasn't as perceptive as he might have been, or perhaps as creative as Sirius (at least in his choice of curses); but once he'd gotten a handle on a situation he wouldn't let go.

His mind whirred away, putting together the little pieces in his mind—the scars on Nott's arm, the sudden sway of Lucius Malfoy, the staggering lurches of Rosier and Nott as they fumbled their way to bed at three in the morning, that odd look of Patil's on Halloween, the owls, the whispered words, and finally that look on Cissy's face…

On the other hand, the likelihood of Rosier being a cat animagus who was sleeping with Nott, who was being blackmailed by Lucius Malfoy who somehow had managed to hurt Patil deeper than any careless Gryffindor words had _ever _managed was highly improbable.

He was missing something.

A/N: I feel like Narcissa would be intrigued and at the same time very wary of someone like Patil, plus y'know, Indian people never get teh love. So! Next chapter should be quite long, but I haven't written anything beyond that.


	8. In Which There Are Reindeer

Norwegian Wood VIII

A/N: This is, once more, la reviewers .

Reg enjoyed Christmas, he enjoyed the twinkling lights strung up around the great hall and the deliciously decadent smell of pudding that seemed nonsensically to pervade even into the gloomy dungeons.

Everything and everyone seemed brighter and better when seen bathed in the warm glow of Christmas candles. By the eighteenth even Lucius Malfoy was beginning to look less like a lecherous girlfriend-stealing piece of vermin and more like a sort of pointy albino rodent. As Regulus's mirror had pointed out, in comparison to his own dashing good looks Malfoy was more to be pitied the censured.

On the day they all left for the holidays Regulus slipped away from the crowd of silver and green at the Hogsmeade station and back tracked until he saw a small group of students milling around in the crisp white snow in front of the Three Broomsticks.

A week before Patil had leaned across to him during a particularly boring Potions and told him to meet him in the village after school let out. "Tell your parents that you're spending a few days at my house" He'd whispered. "And are we?" Regulus had replied, cocking an eyebrow and tossing a few ingredients into his nasty puce colored cauldron. "As if" Patil had said chuckling happily and returned to stirring his perfectly turquoise potion serenely.

Regulus was about to go up to the group, when he spotted Remus Lupin, dressed in blue, talking animatedly to Patil—Regulus quenched the urge to run and hide. He'd been on the receiving end of his brother's brotherly affection once too often.

He poked Patil on the shoulder manfully, "Can I have word?" He asked. "Sure" Patil said nodding his head towards the doorway.

"I am _not_ going anywhere with Lupin" Reg exploded the moment they were away from the group—panic written scrawled over his face. Patil hushed him vigorously, his brown eyes mildly annoyed. "Why not?"

"He's a _Gryffindor_." Reg hissed, making the word sound like a synonym for Vicious Conniving Bastard.

"Regulus Abraxan Black, you know better than that. I just don't understand---"

"No, you don't understand." Regulus said interrupting him, "He's a friend of my _brother_" Reg said crossing his arms. Patil frowned—his usually mild brown eyes annoyed. "And your brother isn't here, is he? Hiding behind a rubbish can, maybe? You can't live in your brother's shadow forever, Reg."

Reg spluttered indignantly, "I do not live in his shadow! I'm completely out of his shadow. Sans-Shadow, that's me." He said firmly.

"Oh yes you do" said Patil equally firmly, "You are coming. I went through a lot of trouble for this, and you will do this. You will enjoy it—and you _will_ be civil to Remus."

"Remus, is it?" Regulus asked nastily. "What was that you said, Oh Obnoxious Pig Headed Brat?" Patil asked raising an eyebrow.

The side of Regulus's mouth twitched and Patil, catching it, laughed, tilting his head back—the warm lamplight of the pub washing over him.

Regulus scowled.

"So, er…" Regulus said, awkwardly, shifting uneasily. "How are things, in, uh…in" He drifted off. "In Gryffindor?" Remus said, amused. "Lovely. And how are things in Slytherin?" He asked with a hint of laughter in his voice. Silently, Regulus cursed Patil to a watery grave for forcing him to sit next to Lupin. "Er…good, good. The usual. Loot, pillage, torture. That sort of thing" Reg said, leaning his head against the window of the Knight Bus, and watching the forest green trees carpeted in snow flash by the window.

"I see" said Remus sunnily, tugging on the sleeves of his leather jacket. "And what sort of looting have you been doing lately?" Reg shrugged, "It's pretty much routine this time of year, tiny children, elves, Christmas ornaments." He nodded blithely.

"The occasional reindeer?" Remus suggested. "Sometimes" Regulus said, "But Reindeer trade has been going through Durmstrang lately. Nothing better than a nice reindeer and asparagus stew. Or so they say"

If he'd been trying to shock Lupin it hadn't worked, because Lupin replied easily, "Nothing better than a nice reindeer on a cold winter's night" He smiled crookedly, as if making a secret joke to himself.

Reg swallowed hard and looked straight ahead at the plush purple cushions of the Knight Bus. "Er…known Patil long?" He asked, still completely at a lost as to what was going on. "Oh a while" Lupin shrugged. "Noel's a good friend"

"Noel?" Reg asked, confused. "Patil, as you call him. He was born on Christmas day—didn't you know?"

"Oh, right, I knew _that_" Reg said, covering. And yes, he had known Patil's birthday, but Patil had been Patil ever since they'd arrived at Hogwarts--a pack of snuffly miniature first years.

Rosier, Nott, Patil, Black---they'd all taken to each other immediately. A band of brothers, though there was no denying Nott and Patil had been the brains of the four, with Rosier and Regulus as the womanizer and the clown respectively. He remembered a day—a night in fifth year, just before the start of a balmy summer

"Wanda Quirke" Nott said, taking a swig of the bottle. Nott wore his usual expression of arrogant intelligence, but Regulus who had known Nott since he (Nott) was an infant could see Nott was also trying very hard not to giggle madly. Regulus made a gagging sound and stuck a finger down his throat, "Salazaar save me! candles off."

"I'll second that and an _amen_" said Rosier, ripping off a fake salute. They were sitting on top of North Tower, dangling their feet off the balcony, sharing between all four of them a bottle of rum that Regulus had nicked from his parents that Easter.

He'd been saving it for a "very special person", but Rosier had found it tucked under his Chudley Cannon's underwear and grabbing a pillow case from the bed had stuffed it up his shirt and threatened to give Regulus a lap dance unless he shared. You never knew _what_ Rosier would do if you pushed him.

"Oh come on, lads" said Patil, "Be fair, she's not _that _bad". "If the competition is between a troll and Severus Snape" said Rosier with a snort and even Patil had to grin reluctantly. "Hmm…" said Regulus, thinking and then snapping his fingers in triumph. "Artemis Kingsley"

"candles on" chorused the other three. "Not that you'd ever get anywhere." Said Nott bitingly, running his hands through his crop of dark hair, "Frigid as a telephone pole, that one"

"Oh I don't know about that one" said Rosier smirking. Nott wheeled around, "_You_, Rosier?" He asked disbelievingly.

Rosier laughed. "I wish. Nah, according to what I hear she got rather _close_ to Malfoy last Tuesday behind the green houses"

"How close?" asked Nott leaning in with interest. Rosier leant closer to his pale cheek and whispered seductively, "D'you want me to show you?" Nott fell backwards with a cry of "Bloody pouf"

Rosier smiled in satisfaction and yanked the bottle away from Regulus, "You wish, Nott. Astrid Normandy"

"Off" Nott said with a grimace.

"Dim" Regulus said, "She's nice enough, but ugh, trying to scale _those_ heights would be like struggling up Everest"

"With you on that one" said Patil shuddering, not looking up from his sketch book.

Nott looked at the sketch, and laughed, "Sunsets Patil, isn't that a bit lush?" "Appreciation of nature and skill with a brush does not a 'lush' make Nott." said Patil sternly. Sometimes Regulus was left in frank admiration of Patil's ability to punctuate his sentences with inverted commas at the drop of the hat. Although sometimes he was just reminded very strongly of a Minerva McGongall splashed with chocolate.

"You know who I wouldn't mind a bit of?" Rosier asked. "Everyone in the bloody school and a few others besides?" Regulus replied, snidely.

"Besides that" said Rosier waving it off, "Lily Evans. I mean, cor, that girl's a looker. Smart, too. That's the sort of girl to settle down with. A rack and a brain, what more could a man want?"

Nott laughed, "A rack, an arse and no brain at all?"

Rosier shrugged with the martyrdom of the converted, "There comes a time in a man's life when he gets tired of the ordinary riff raff and looks for something a bit more fulfilling"

Nott snorted in disbelief, "So are you telling me that if tonight Calliope Parkinson turned up completely naked in your bed tonight with a pot of honey you'd tell _her_ she was riff raff and to take her and her honey and shove along?"

"Never said that did I" said Rosier with amiable lechery.

"Dunno, I'd prefer Nettie Longbottom" said Patil with a rare glint of wickedness. Nott made a sound of agreement. "You know who'd really do me fine though?" Nott said the corner of his mouth tucking up in a fanged half smile.

"Who?" Patil asked, taking another sip from the bottle. "Narcissa" said Nott, elongating the s's, he turned to Regulus with a slight smirk. "Wouldn't you agree, Reg"

Regulus's only reply was a "Damn you Nott", and a blush.

Nott shrugged elegantly. "Our Regulus here as a widdle crushie, I think" He said. If it had been anyone else Regulus would have given them a hearty thump, but two bright red spots appeared on Regulus's cheeks instead.

"Oh, Regulus, our bashful little milk maid" said Patil teasingly.

"Don't you worry" Nott said slinging his arm around Regulus and squeezing, "You are my little lad and I_will_ look after you." Nott took a swig of the whisky and rubbed Regulus's dark hair affectionately. "Silly blighter that you are." He added.

It had been easy to forget that in the wake of things more present and Reg had tried to bury it under the long list of things he'd happily murder Nott for, but the thing was that Nott _had_ looked after them, albeit in his own twisted way.

There had been a day in first year, just before Halloween when he'd staggered into the Common Room with two black eyes and several very attractive bruises all because some arsed Hufflepuff had had the tenacity to call Patil a _damn coolie_. (1)

They'd been a team, all four of them, they'd looked after each other and looked out for each other, even Rosier had backed Nott when he'd tried to rebel against that bastard father of his. So it hadn't worked, but that hadn't been the point. But now….Regulus felt like he was a happily married man who, after twenty happy years suddenly discovers his wife's been having it off with the milkman while he was at the dentist's.

There had been that business this Halloween for one, the blow out between Nott and Noel?---Patil for one. And now it seemed like it had been Patil who had led a double life all along. Where, thought Regulus bitterly, did that leave him?

_It_ left him on the Knight Bus traveling to god knows where with Remus Lupin, Patil, and a handful of other dubious people for company.

Regulus sighed.

(1). Indian Porters, but also used as a derogatory putdown by the British when they occupied India.

"My little lads" is from Monstrous Regiment by Terry Pratchett


End file.
